


Shawarma and Fondue

by whisperingink



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-03
Updated: 2012-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-06 17:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperingink/pseuds/whisperingink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the final fight, Tony collapses into a coma and awakes to find the last person he expected curled up at his side, never once having left him alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shawarma and Fondue

Tony stirred in an unfamiliar bed, blinking groggily at the bright lights above. This definitely wasn't his room. For starters, the sheets felt scratchy and smelled of regulation bleach. Also, there was an unfamiliar not-Pepper weight next to him. He was alive, he'd made it out okay; the memory of falling through that portal, flickering back and forth between consciousness, flashed through his brain. Hulk had grabbed him before he became a Stark-shaped pancake, yeah, he remembered that. And Pepper, he'd tried calling Pepper, but there'd been no answer, and he really did think that he was going to die alone...

And then he saw blue.

No promised white light, but a soft blue color. Deep blue fabric, bright blue eyes, looking down, worried, and a soft voice whispering his name as warm hands cupped his face.

"Stark, wake up."

"Stark, come on."

"Stark."

"You gotta get up, Stark."

_"...Tony?"_

Then he couldn't remember much, just something about shawarma...whatever that was. The weight next to him shifted, and a strong pair of arms encircled his waist, warm lips nuzzling-nuzzling?-his neck. The sheer amount of musculature let Tony know that it definitely wasn't a women. Most of the women he'd bedded weren't exactly the nuzzling type. Tony looked to his right to see the sleeping face of Steve Rogers, a small smile and peaceful brow letting him know that the Captain was probably blissfully unaware of who, exactly, he was spooning.

The average man might've freaked out upon waking to find a super soldier wrapped around his body. Tony was both too tired and too...okay with it, to freak out. He ached all over from saving the world, and the man's warmth felt nice. He wasn't exactly a bad looking guy either, with soft-looking blond hair, cupid bow lips, and the perfectly muscled body half of the country currently lusted over. Still only half-aware of himself, Tony placed his hands on top of Steve's, which were currently rubbing against his torso. 

That light touch caused the other man to stir, big blue eyes sleepily blinking open, mouth parted ever-so-slightly. Tony had wondered for awhile during college where he stood on the Kinsey scale before completely throwing that concept out the first time he fucked an Abercrombie model. He replaced the Kinsey scale with the 'Tony Stark Scale of Hotness.' The Captain probably would've scored a ten, had he stopped being such a goody-two-shoes and gotten rid of his shirt more often. Tony smirked at the half-asleep Avenger.

"Morning, sweetheart," he teased, "Did you sleep well?' The blind's eyes burst wide open as he came to his senses, causing Tony to bite back a snort of laughter when Steve yelped in surprise, falling off of the small bed. 

"Ton-er-Stark! Uh, good to see you're awake," Steve stuttered, cheeks flushed a very delectable shade of pink as he scrambled back to his feet. Tony appreciated the sight of him in a tight white undershirt and loose grey sweats.

"Where are the others?" Tony asked nonchalantly, as though they hadn't just ben cuddling. Steve turned even redder as he struggled to retain military officialness.

"Uh, erm, Mr. Banner's currently resting, alone per his request. Agent Barton and Romanov requested a private room." Toy bit back another grin as Steve stumbled over the awkward phrasing, "Last time I saw him, Thor was going to check on Loki." A bitter inflection entered his voice with those last words. Tony sat up in bed, wincing as he looked down at his bare, bandage-covered chest. Luckily, his heart looked fine. Wouldn't stop him from running some diagnostics on it when he got home, though.

"And you've been playing nurse?" Tony asked, noting how the Captain averted his eyes from naked skin. Poor old-fashioned baby. When the darkened expression didn't leave Steve's face, Tony sobered up. "Hey, what's with the doom and gloom? We should be celebrating a win! And how'd you get in, anyways?" Steve glared at him.

"I told the doctor that we're partners. He said he understood. I suppose he has family in the military."

Poor star-spangled baby.

"We're partners now? Why's that important? You look awful, Cap, how much have you been sleeping? If you need to relax, I know these twins, they're Ukrainian-"

"Would you shut up and take your life seriously, at least? For once?" Steve exploded, those blue eyes brighter than ever with anger, "You were out cold, Stark! We didn't know if you were going to be okay or not, cause Banner had to stabilize your glowing heart thing, and if you think that I'm the kind of man to just sit back and let my partner die...again..." his voice grew small, saddened by a memory. For a second, the Captain actually looked his age. The grin left Tony's face, and he found himself silenced for one.

"I'm sorry for the outburst," Steve whispered, hanging his head, "But you've been out for awhile. I was worried." The blond refused to look him in the eye until Tony reached out and touched his arm.

"What was his name?" He asked, tugging Steve to sit back down on the creaking hospital bed. The blond looked taken aback by the gesture, freezing at Tony's touch before sinking back dow next to him.

"...Bucky. His name was Bucky, and he was the best friend a guy could ever ask for. He was my right hand man in a huge mission against Hydra. His last. My last. The only difference is that someone went looking for me." The anger and acid in Steve's voice stung Tony's ears. "I lost my closest friend. I lost everything after that. When I woke up...I didn't know what to do. I was so alone. I had nobody. I felt like someone had stolen my life. And then, you guys came along. Suddenly," Steve looked up at the ceiling, that relaxed smile spreading over his lips again.

"I wasn't alone anymore. Friends. People who were counting on me. I didn't want to mess it up. Not again. So," Steve's face turned pink once more as he looked down at his lap, "I-I stayed with you. I wanted to make sure you woke up." Steve kept very quiet, twiddling his thumbs as he perched on the edge of the bed. Tony chuckled, leaning forward to turn the blond towards him. 

"A couple of years ago," he said, running a finger absentmindedly along the nape of Steve's neck, "I got myself kidnapped and tortured for a few months. Stupid of me, really. But, in the end, I walked away with a supersuit, and they walked away dead."

"But you can't walk away dead-"

"Shut up and let me finish, pretty boy. My point is, I'm not going anywhere. I'll be around to annoy you for a long time, and that's a promise." As he flashed an award winning smile that made starlets swoon across the globe, he took pleasure in noting that Steve's cheeks practically burned red.

"You're less annoying now...after everything you did. You're really brave. It's admirable." Tony's face broke into a genuine, unexpected grin as he fell back in bed, propping himself up by the elbows. He made an observation. I could have him moaning my name in five minutes, in this bed, he thought, examining the bashful expression on Steve's face, And yet...I'm not going to. Heh, he's such a fucking unicorn. 

"I'm feeling better. Hey, we oughta get that shawarma tonight. I'm pretty sure that place delivers." Steve smiled at him, all white teeth and happy eyes as he stood up from the bed.

"I'll check with the others. You rest, okay?" He started for the door before pausing, carefully turning back to Tony.

"What's up, Cap?" Tony asked, perfectly aware of how his own excellence was on display in bed. When Steve hesitated once more, he sat up and swung his legs over the bed.

"Ah...Tony," Steve started, "After the shawarma stuff, do you...do you want to go get fondue?"

Oh all the random come-ons he'd heard in his life, a fondue date definitely ranked in the top ten. But the blushy, earnest look on the hero's face appealed to Steve more than anything else. He really enjoyed that blush. 

"Hey, who doesn't like melted cheese?" he cajoled, trying to ease the tension. Steve grinned, ecstatic as, pausing only briefly, he dipped his head down to press a kiss to the back of Tony's hand, like a true old-fashioned gentleman.

"Sounds good, sounds good. I think there's a nice place a few blocks away...if it's still standing. I should go find out now. Get rest, Tony, I'll see you later!" And then he practically sprinted from the room, leaving Tony with incredibly filthy thoughts about what else those soft, pink lips were good at. The back of his hand tingled-tingled!-and Tony adjusted himself.

"I do love a good All-American boy," he murmured, "I bet he'd be nice with a bit of ice cream. Or whipped cream. Or...fondue." He tried to wrap his head around the odd date. Picking up the bedside phone, Tony dialed the front desk. "I need you to connect me with the most expensive florist in the city. No, I won't hold, I'm Tony Stark. Ah, better. Yes, hello? Yeah, this is Stark. Listen, I need the most embarrassingly huge boquet of roses you guys can put together, delivered to this hospital, addressed to 'Captain.' Make them blush-worthy."


End file.
